Nightwatcher
by PierDreams
Summary: The Stars have eyes. Do not be fooled.
1. Chapter 1

_I've gone and done something crazy and started another story. So without further ado:_

"I want to get roaring drunk and you can't stop me," she slurred, sluggishly twisting to hug the bottle to herself.

Skulduggery laughed, a mixture between exasperation and amusement, and reached out for it again. "Val..." he started.

"Nope." She giggled and tottered slightly on the barstool.

"As a responsible adult, I can't let you do this," he tried again, trying to keep a straight face.

Another laugh bubbled up from deep inside her and she swayed in towards him. "You're not...a responsible adult," she hiccuped.

"And you're not either."

"Skulduggery…"

"And it's late..."

"Skulduggery..."

"And -"

"Skulduggery! Get yourself a drink and toast to us. We have closed the deal and we are on the way to becoming heroes. We've bagged him and we are becoming the modern face of crime fighting." Her foot tangled in the rungs of the stool as she tried to stand up and she crashed face-first into his chest. "Wh-wachu doin'," she mumbled into his suit, "why you grabbing me?"

Skulduggery had to laugh. "Ok, you've had enough. We're going home." Placing a few notes on the countertop, he wrapped his arm more tightly around her and guided her to the door. He gripped the heavy handle with his free hand and a gust of icy wind confronted the pair. As they stepped through, the freezing air shot up his cuffs and froze his throat and the inside of his nose. He'd had the full-body facade for just over two months and there were things about having a fully functional body that he just couldn't get used to, and the cold of the Irish winter was one.

Still firmly locked together, they passed by the warm, steamy windows of the pub, radiating light into the inky night. As they exited the last pool of light and reached the edge of the building, they broke apart and sprinted across the gravelly parking lot and into the woods beyond, staying low and moving at top speed. The woods loomed up, blacker than the already obscured night, and the pair leapt the ditch and were swallowed up by the sharp lines of the watchful pines. The sound of their footsteps was muted by the bed of moss and needles the forest had lain, as if for their purpose solely.

The hill reached a crest and they burst into a slightly more open area. Skulduggery slowed to a stop, phone in hand and dialing already. Valkyrie prowled, keeping watch, her breath making slight puffs in the subzero air. Both of their dark clothes blended in perfectly with the dense woods surrounding them so that as she moved, she appeared to flicker in and out of being between the fingers of moonlight penetrating the intense shadow.

"Start the car. Start driving back to the house - fast, like usual. Be careful."


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you to my kind reviewers!_

"Start the car. Start driving back to the house - fast, like usual. Be careful."

There was murmured assent from the other end of the line, and Skulduggery hung up. He held his arms out to Valkyrie and she stepped into him.

"Are you sure you weren't an actor in another life?" Skulduggery mused as they lifted off the ground.

Valkyrie laughed, breath sweet and fresh and without a trace of alcohol. "I feel bad about all of the liquor I poured out on the ground." She shifted her arms around his neck as they picked up speed, the ground spreading out below them like a reflection of the night sky, bright pinpoints of light shining out of the black.

They changed direction and their velocity increased. The lower strata of the clouds began to envelop them as they sped towards a steadily growing cluster of lights in the distance. Valkyrie shivered and dug her face into the angle between his shoulder and neck. "I can't get used to the idea of you being warm," she commented, her nose cold against the sliver of exposed skin. Skulduggery shivered and cursed. "That's freezing cold. God. It's such a problem to have a body again."

Valkyrie laughed, the increasing wind ripping away the sound and dispersing it into the night sky.

"And I can't see either," he grouched, removing one arm from her waist to wipe at his eyes as the chill wind gusted. Valkyrie murmured something into his neck that he didn't catch. He was, however, painfully aware of the way his extremities were beginning to ache dully, and his nose was probably as red as Valkyrie's had been.

The cloud bank swooped down below them, and suddenly they were flying through a mist of swirling, featureless grey. Skulduggery frowned and began to incline downwards when a tingling at the edge of his mind stopped him. Valkyrie withdrew her face from the shelter of his shoulder and their eyes linked.

"Do you -" he began, and she cut him off with a sharp nod.

"It's getting closer."

He strained, trying to pierce the dense fog that was whipping by them at high speed. The tingling built to a buzz, and then he could sense movement, fast movement, rocketing in their direction.

"Skulduggery-"

"I'll catch you," he barked, and thrust her from him. She tumbled backwards and was consumed by the whiteness as he dove in the opposite direction, abandoning himself to gravity's hold.

Egad! Cue cheesy cliff-hanger...


	3. Chapter 3

_I love you reviewers 333_

"I'll catch you," he barked, and thrust her from him. She tumbled backwards and was consumed by the whiteness as he dove in the opposite direction, abandoning himself to gravity's hold. Still, despite how far and fast he descended, the concussive blow of the explosion where they had just been buffeted him like a leaf, sending him spinning. Unable to reorient, the earth far below spun nauseously, horizon undefined. Far below, he heard a shriek.

Skulduggery snapped out his arms and legs, refining the flow of air about him and slowing his uncontrolled whirling. As everything came back into focus, he found himself plummeting backwards, facing up towards the fading light of an explosion, the trails of illuminated smoke stretching out long tentacles towards him. Cursing viciously, he flipped head-down and plunged down towards the yawning maw of darkness below, and, manipulating the air, shot directly downwards.

A dark shape, flapping as it fell, appeared in his peripheral vision. Glancing at the rapidly approaching treetops, Skulduggery piled on the speed and rocketed forward to catch it in his arms.

It was an empty coat.

He cursed viciously and cast a desperate glance around. The ground was rearing up terrifyingly fast and the skies looked empty, starless now and clouded and - there.

Plunging earthwards, hair streaming out, legs and arms futilely extended to manipulate the air.

Skulduggery lunged, forcing all of his strength into the motion, and blurred towards Valkyrie's falling form.

The arms of an oak tree stretched upwards, reaching out to Valkyrie, dragging her in.

The top branches rustled expectantly.

Skulduggery let loose a gasp of exertion, and with one last effort, collided with her, knocking them both sideways. She folded with the force of his speed as they careened, snapping twigs, to the grass beneath. The pair skidded, grass flashing in mouths and scraping across cheeks, breaking apart as they rolled to a painful halt.

Valkyrie lay spread-eagled in the rent grass, just breathing, staring upwards.

"Val...Valkyrie!" He heaved himself up and stumbled across the few meters separating them, collapsed in the grass by her side. He frantically pawed at her, searching for injuries, and she spat out a gasp and sat up sharply.

"Holy shit. Holy shit," she gasped hoarsely. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as Skulduggery sat back on his heels, watching closely for any sign of injury.

"You...you..." she rasped, pointing a trembling finger at him.

"I have impeccable timing?" he tried.

She shook her head in exasperation and flopped back on the grass. "Next time, let me know before you throw me, kay?"

He laughed softly, but inside he was just as shaken as she was. If he had been just an instant slower, she would have been hanging impaled on the branches of the hulking oak, he thought.

"Should've stuck with elemental," Valkyrie gasped from her position on the ground as he stood and regarded her thoughtfully.

As he made his way to grab her jacket from where it hung across a nearby bush, he glanced up at the sky. Extending one arm, he used the air to lift a log from the grass nearby and propelled it upwards. As soon as it cleared the treetop, a loud whining sound became audible, and then the log exploded into a firestorm, an explosion of blazing woodchips raining down into the meadow.

Skulduggery and Valkyrie swore and broke for the trees, dodging the downpour of burning missiles.

In the close safety of the tree branches, their eyes met again and an understanding passed between them.

"We can't fly. They're armed and waiting."

Skulduggery gripped a branch tightly and arched his back. Valkyrie crossed her arms and looked at him. "Between the trees won't work either - we'd get speared by a tree or something."

He shuddered as he remembered his earlier vision of Valkyrie's limp, mangled body suspended from wooden limbs.

"Do we risk getting to a road and then flying?"

Skulduggery dropped his face into his hands and rubbed his eyes vigorously. He cursed. "This wasn't supposed to happen. They weren't supposed to be ready."

"I know. I know. They were supposed to follow the car to the house and we were going to drop in on them and arrest them. But they're prepared."

"They knew. How could they know?"

"There's a mole somewhere. Someone on the inside."

He swore again, loudly.

"Skulduggery."

He lashed a furious kick into the base of the tree.

"Skulduggery. Focus. We need to move now. The White Cleaver driving is going to get to the house before us."

"Yes. Yes. Dammit."

She took her coat from his arms and slid it on, zipping it up and wrapping her arms around herself for warmth. "How close do you think we are?"

Turning around, searching for a reference point, he called over his shoulder, "This way. I have a plan." With that, he took off running into the brush.

Valkyrie launched herself after him with a mumbled expletive.


	4. Chapter 4

"It's a road."

He didn't respond, only gazed fixedly at the strip of tarmac lying just beyond the tree line. Their mingled breath rose like steam into the hungry, biting night air.

"Skulduggery. Why are we doing this?" She nudged his shoulder, panting slightly.

"We're going to hitchhike," he said, concentrating.

"And how are you planning on getting anyone to stop for us at this time of night?" she hissed, pressing into him.

"Watch." A set of headlights crested the rise and Skulduggery burst from cover and dashed into the road.

"What the hell are you doing?" she yelped, breaking out into the open.

He didn't respond, instead bracing himself as the car began to screech to a halt.

It wouldn't stop in time, she thought, panicked, it would hit him. A scream built up in her throat as the fender barreled towards him.

And then he was leaping, air bending around him, into the hood of the Jeep, Berretta pistol gleaming lethally in the moonlight. "Out of the car," he intoned. The terrified driver, hands raised, ducked out of the cabin. Skulduggery motioned him to the side of the road with the extended gun, face cast into impersonal and dangerously blank features. "On your knees." The man dropped.

In one fluid motion, Skulduggery swung himself into the driver's side, throwing open the other door for Valkyrie. She leapt into the passenger seat as Skulduggery jammed down the accelerator and the car jumped forward with a screech.

"Thanks a bunch!" she tossed guiltily out of the door to the rapidly receding, bewildered owner on his knees by the side of the road. Pulling her door shut, she winced as she caught a glimpse of the speedometer but sad nothing. Time was of the essence, and speed was really what they needed at this point. That didn't mean it didn't scare her a little as the darkness lashed by on both sides, blurring into oblivion. Valkyrie reached for her seatbelt and buckled it around herself.

"In my jacket pocket. Inside pocket."

"What?"

He turned to grin at her, and his features creased with a sharp smile. His face unnerved her; not merely the expression but the fact of its existence at all.

"Present for you."

Valkyrie raised a curious eyebrow and reached across the gearbox to push her hands into his coat. He jumped slightly and she withdrew. "What?"

He grinned again, faintly. "Watch where you're putting your hands. I have a body now, remember."

Valkyrie blushed and more cautiously reached into his pocket again. Something cold and hard and metallic touched her hand and she drew it out slowly.

A gun. Icy and heavy in her palm, and deadly. She breathed in and out, feeling its weight. "You got me a weapon," she finally observed.

"You needed something a little more long distance than that stick, I decided."

Valkyrie grinned icily, shifting it between her numb, clumsy fingers.

"Thanks," she said eventually, and he could hear it in her voice that she meant it. He nodded, corners of his mouth lifting slightly as he focused on the road rushing by.

All of a sudden the forest receded and they were out in the open, speeding along with the ocean behind a promenade to their left. The wind was whipping the sea into a frenzy, and white spume was blowing across the barrier to alight, snowlike, on their window. Haggard.

Valkyrie tensed, the streets of her childhood becoming recognizable. "Skulduggery, why are we stopping here? They're going to your house, not mine."

He stayed silent.

She waited a moment and then repeated the question.

"Stephanie," he replied tautly.

"What do you mean, 'Stephanie'?" she demanded.

"We've found our source. The traitor."

"What are you talking about? You have no proof!"

"Think, for god's sake, Valkyrie. It all makes sense. Who else would know everything about a case that's just between you and me? Not even China knows all of it, and not her Cleaver either. "

"But you can't just go in accusing her!" Valkyrie exclaimed. "Besides, my parents are home."

Skulduggery ignored her, wrenching the stolen Jeep left onto the road that bypassed the pier on the way to her house. The springs screeched loudly in protest and the engine whined as he whipped the key from the ignition and vaulted out of the cabin, Valkyrie only a half-second behind him. A half-second too far. He launched himself off of the ground, wind rushing in behind him and boosting his frame up to her windowsill. Valkyrie's fingers snagged his coattails uselessly, and then she was standing on the grass looking up at him disappearing through her - Stephanie's - bedroom window.


	5. Chapter 5

_I had only intended this to be a one-shot when I began writing...oops..._

"Dammit!" she cursed, stamping her foot in frustration. The car keys were firmly ensnared in Skulduggery's left fist and he was on yet another useless quest of revenge, at precisely the wrong moment. The attack was supposed to be mounted and the arrest needed to be made. He was putting the entire operation at risk for an unproven, angry hypothesis.

The sound of a quiet commotion drifted from the open upstairs window and Valkyrie snapped to attention. A light was on and silhouettes were moving on the glass. A burst of angry noise emitted and, an instant later, Stephanie was thrown against the half open window. Her cry of shock and pain pierced the night, and downstairs, a light snapped on in her parents' room.

Valkyrie, swearing fully now, yelled a hoarse warning to Skulduggery to stop it, to stop it right now and leave Stephanie alone. She threw herself against the flat planes of the wall, searching vainly for a handhold on the smooth surface, and cursed herself for the thousandth time for losing her Elemental powers. Unable to find a grasp, she slipped down to the dewy grass, pierced by the sobs of denial that were now emanating from her bedroom window, interspersed by roars from Skulduggery and shouts from her parents on the other side of the door. She yelled in frustration and her hair lifted off her neck, crackling with static electricity.

She paused, extending her arms and seeing that now, tiny sparks of energy were leaping about, casting blue shadows on her skin. Valkyrie slowly raised her gaze to the window, then whirled about and sprinted for the Jeep.

Skulduggery would leave if she did, he would have to, and from that simple fact, her mind raced. She clawed the hood open, throwing her weight into the movement, and laid her palms flat on each each pole of the battery. She closed her eyes. Breathed in. Reached for the addictive tingle in her core, let it bloom and trickle down her arms to buzz hotly in the pads of her fingers, cold against the metal. And then she released it.

The electricity poured from her and into the battery, forming a circuit, brilliant light spilling into the night. The Jeep roared to life deafeningly loudly, and smoke coiled from the engine. Valkyrie tripped backwards, cutting off the energy. As soon as she landed, she rebounded to her feet, still tingling all over, and swung herself into the cab. Her boot jammed the accelerator and the car lurched forward with a scream of rubber and a spray of pebbles. She shot out into the street and turned sharply, nervously eyeing the rear view mirror. Nothing seemed to be following. Valkyrie shook her head sharply and gunned the engine, pushing the speedometer even higher as she took another turn, feeling the car lurch onto two wheels. As she accelerated down the empty streets, her eye caught the clock mounted in the dashboard and she swore.

It was a weapon. She and Skulduggery had been on this particular case for around two and a half months, tracing down this Key. The Key was Sanctuary priority for the reason that it posed a threat as the most dangerous weapon in existence at the exact moment, and at this exact moment it was sitting, seriously under-protected, at the end of Cemetery Lane. In general terms, the Key allowed for the control of all weapons in a six mile radius.

She slammed her hand furiously on the steering wheel as a light changed to red, but then changed her mind and accelerated through it.

The Key. Under the guard of one Cleaver. Though the White Cleaver, this organization that had come to take it back was much more serious than either she and Skulduggery or the Sanctuary had anticipated.

In the past few days only had their months of chasing up leads come to fruition, and, in simple terms, they had robbed a dangerous Flemish gang of the Key. And they had set a trap to arrest the ringleaders of the gang, drawing them in with the Key as bait. "It has to be there. You can feel the magnetism," Skulduggery had said. And it was true: she could feel a slight awareness, a power emanating from its matte metal casing. So they had set a trap, complete with the White Cleaver and alcohol and elaborate hints and only lacking one crucial element: the possibility of error. And then they had underestimated seriously. And now she was launching an ambush alone. Herself and one gun.

Valkyrie switched off the lights as she reached the hill upon which Skulduggery's house sat. Silently, she coasted in, about halfway up the incline, then reached out and laid her forefinger against the dashboard, testing the circuit racing beneath. Breathing in deeply, she reached out with her mind, altered the path, and let the current pass into her body.

Her body jerked in her seat and her eyes rolled up into her head for a second. The luminous whites of her eyes twitched once, and then she slumped.


	6. Chapter 6

Perhaps for thirty seconds she laid still, passed out and vulnerable under the sharply shining stars. And then, with a gasp of indrawn air, she jolted upright, coughed twice, forced open the door of the Jeep, and stepped out into the cold on shaky legs. After a moment's pause, bracing herself against the frame of the car, she determinedly launched herself towards the house.

The shadows were dark and disguised her travels, carried out in a half-crouching run, and she stumbled slightly as she moved. Her breath scraped in and out laboriously but she carried on.

The Bentley was parked outside the familiar steps of the house, empty. Valkyrie's heart stilled as she saw that the driver side door was slightly ajar. No other vehicles except for her own were present, she noted, scanning the dead end road.

Valkyrie, head swiveling left and right constantly now, reached into the waistband of her trousers and extracted her new pistol. A flush of anger at Skulduggery, strangely distant behind the accelerating beat of her heart, washed over her as she mounted the front steps. The front door too was open, not just slightly, but hanging emptily on slightly crooked hinges. The yawning blackness beyond seemed to reach tendrils beyond its abode, scratching at the wooden porch in an attempt at escape; to leave to rejoin the inky night sky.

Valkyrie swallowed and stepped across the threshold.

Inside, the house was strangely still and silent save for the blood thrumming in her eardrums. The only illumination was the dull spill of moonlight across the oak floors. Her cautious footsteps were soundless. Her eyes strained as they roved across the dim, opaque rooms. Her arms trembled slightly as she held the gun out straight in front of her, clenched in still-numb fingers.

The layout of Skulduggery's house, always so familiar and welcoming, has transformed with the onset of darkness, and had taken on a sinister aspect. Head snapping back and forth, she crept towards the kitchen, listening for any hint of sound that might give away position.

She slid her boot another inch forwards, reaching to see into the next patch of gloom. The stainless steel of the appliances reflected weird and grotesque depictions of the kitchen and cast faint gleams of light. She moved another step forward and then something alighted on her waist.

She whirled, stifling a scream, fumbling with her gun in numb fingers.

A man's forehead against the muzzle. A man's slender hands on either side of her waist.

Her panicked brain flared, dashing to place the face. And then she saw the cheekbones. The suit. Skulduggery.

His green eyes stared coolly into hers.

"Your safety isn't off," he whispered. Moving slowly, Skulduggery firmly clasped the gun to his forehead with one hand and pushed back the lever, moving a bullet into the chamber. Valkyrie never took her eyes off him. Her gaze was cold, the only hint at her true emotions being her heaving chest. Skulduggery let his hands fall back to his aides. Still, she remained motionless, fixing him in her icy gaze. The pistol's muzzle bit into his skin as they stared at one another. Finally, he looked down and away and then the pressure receded as she lowered her weapon.

Skulduggery blinked twice, tried to open his mouth to whisper an apology, but was shunned as Valkyrie motioned him behind her. Obediently, he turned his back and began sweeping the area around them as she moved forward again, toward the base of the stairs. With both of their weapons drawn and scanning constantly, they crept to the bottom step. As they moved, Skulduggery occasionally felt the contact of her narrow shoulder blades against his spine.

Thus, when she stopped abruptly, a slight noise of shock caught in her throat, he felt her shoulder blades tighten with a jolt. Had he not known her so closely, he might have missed the signs, but as he spun, he knew that it would be bad.

And it was: a mangled scythe sprawled across the stairs. The glint of its sharp blade was embedded in the railing, and the handle was twisted and crushed far beyond repair. No other sign of the White Cleaver was visible.

Now Valkyrie's eyes betrayed a nervous tint, but she squared her shoulders and placed her foot on the first step. Unexpectedly, she had to force the movement. She frowned. Skulduggery moved into place behind her, gun aimed up the landing. As she mounted the second step, her legs began to tremble as the shock she had received from the battery began to kick in. The third step was too much. Her knee gave out and she would have landed with a crack had Skulduggery not caught her by the upper arm. As he hauled her back up, worry in her eyes, she merely shook her head at him angrily. Still, he didn't relinquish his grip, and with one hand encircling her bicep and the other the trigger of his Beretta they scaled the stairs.


	7. Chapter 7

_So, I would just like to tell everybody who reviewed - and you know who you are, and I'm speaking directly to you now - that every kind word helps me move a mile and makes this who writing thing so enjoyable and rewarding. Thank you for your support and sweetness and feedback and stuff. And I had this written so elegantly before but I accidentally deleted it so it isn't so eloquent anymore. But the message is still the same._

_*also* this chapter contains some language, so don't forget to cover your ears, kiddos._

_Without further ado..._

The second floor was still and absolutely noiseless. Skulduggery released her and she sank quietly to her knees, recuperating. With one palm out, he read the air with a frown. Nothing. Valkyrie regained her feet and began following as he made his way down the wood-paneled landing, seeking out the master bedroom where they had stashed the Key. All along the walls now were scorch marks and bullet holes. A long gash tracing the contours of the wood's grain extended along the hallway.

The first body lay halfway in and out of the bedroom. A man, violently taken down by what appeared to be hand-to-hand combat, slumped in a pool of his own dark blood. All that remained of his face was a pulpy mess tangled with strands of blonde hair.

Valkyrie averted her eyes as she stepped over the body and into the room, tasting bile. Inside, it was completely trashed. Skulduggery's dress shirts and ties were strewn wildly, and the sheets were torn on his bed. A light dusting of feathers coated the floor, condensing in places where a dark liquid had coagulated. Fragments of the shattered mirror were scattered, and Valkyrie caught their shadowy reflections in the glass. More glass augmented the bizarre ornamentation of the room as the broken window's remnants cast glittering starlight on the walls and ceiling.

In the center, left like a taunt, was the open chest that they had stored the Key in. Its titanium walls had been ripped apart by a swathe of bullets, and it was spread apart into individually mangled chunks. The Key was gone.

Skulduggery staggered slightly as the fact that they had suspected all along was confirmed.

"Fuck you, Pleasant," Valkyrie whispered from behind him. He half-turned to face her. Her eyes were flaring from a too-pale face. "We could have been here. We could have stopped them." She, too, was leaning against the wall for support The rage seemed to radiate in rays from her slouched frame. "But you had to dash off randomly. Without purpose. On some quest of yours. Some chance to prove that you seek justice truly and nobly."

Skulduggery's eyes slid sideways as something caught his attention. Her words stung, yes, but distantly. A strange sensation was murmuring at the fringes of his mind.

Valkyrie pushed herself off the wall and stalked towards him, muscles tense. "Did you hurt her, Skulduggery? Did you enjoy making yourself feel like a big man?"

The tingling feeling was still there, and as he concentrated he found he could pinpoint it. He moved to the window, drawn, and hunkered down to look out through the broken glass. A body lay spread eagled on the ground below, but he hardly noticed. "Somewhere nearby," he muttered to himself. "Somewhere."

"Skulduggery!" she repeated. Obviously he had missed something in the middle, he thought distractedly, still peering into the night.

Valkyrie's hands collided with the center of his back, between his shoulder blades. He stumbled forward a step and finally turned to look.

"I said, what did you do to -"

"She's fine! God! I didn't do anything and her - your parents started coming through the door so I exited through the window."

"My god, Skulduggery, you threw her! She did nothing - absolutely -"

He grabbed her arm and tugged her to where he was standing. Valkyrie tried to pull away but he held on tightly.

"What are you doing? Let go of me!" She twisted, anger flowing off her in waves.

"Just - just wait."

"Why should I do anything you -"

"Dammit, I'm trying to fix this!"

She quieted but stared sullenly at him. He averted his eyes and released her arm. She rubbed at it with her other hand.

He breathed in and out once, and brushed his fingers through his hair. "Do you feel it?"

Valkyrie was looking away too now, and Skulduggery started when he saw her angrily wiping away tears with the backs of her hands.

"Valkyrie?"

She shook her head angrily and turned stubbornly away. "A buzzing, right. Yes. I feel it."

"I -"

"It's the Key. Nearby. That's what you think?" She was talking fast, not giving him a chance to speak. "The window?"

"Valkyrie, I -"

"It's still here, then. Somewhere. Which is bad."

Skulduggery let go and snatched up her hands, but cupped them gently in his palms like small birds, liable to take flight at any moment. He sought her gaze. Her chin was inclined, tough, but her eyes were shining wetly. Skulduggery breathed in again.

"I'm s-"

A deafening screech, a rattle of metal on metal, from numerous clanking and seeming to rent the very fabric of the night erupted from outside. And then, half a second later, the chatter of machine guns.


	8. Chapter 8

PEOPLE I JUST REMEMBERED THIS STORY BY ACCIDENT AND WOWZA I GOT REINSPIRED. SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT BUT I'M BACK TO WORK ON THIS AGAIN. SO EXCITING! p.s. language, kiddos

The outwards-facing wall exploded inwards in a spray of plaster and brick, sending Skulduggery and Valkyrie diving for cover behind the bed.

"Shit," he hissed as Valkyrie ducked out of cover briefly, collapsing down next to him again just as quickly.

"The whole wall is down," she panted, wiping plaster dust from her ghostly pale face. "There are lights outside, can't see much but-"

Another deafening burst of gunfire cut her off, and they hunkered lower behind the bed as Skulduggery's mattress was lacerated just above their heads. Feathers bloomed wildly from the split fabric and were illuminated as a floodlight snapped on, dousing the room in blinding whiteness. Surrealist shadows whirled across the bullet-spattered walls, leaping to and fro as if to escape the gaze of the monstrous creature that was upon them.

Skulduggery yelped and jerked as a bullet whined off the bedpost just inches from his face. Next to him, Valkyrie cried out and dragged him to a lying position with a grip on his collar.

"Skulduggery! Where are you hit? Are you okay?"

He shook his head. Tasted blood. He'd bitten his tongue.

"I'm fine," he murmured, pursing his lips and spitting to expel the iron flavor from his mouth. "Just was a tad too close for comfort." Shaking himself loose from her grip, he rolled to his knees and brought his gun up. Motioning at her with the barrel, he signaled to her to cover him.

Obediently, Valkyrie cupped her own pistol between her palms and rose up on her knees. At the count of three, she swung out sideways from behind cover, firing. Skulduggery gripped the metal bedpost and wrenched himself up, taking in all that he could. At the sight, his breath caught and he fell back hard to his kneecaps. Valkyrie jolted back, crashing hard against his side.

"What?" Her obsidian eyes sought out his in their tiny oasis of darkness in the fire-white room. He said nothing, jaw slack for the first time since she has met him, so many years ago. Valkyrie caught at his free hand, the one not limply dangling the Beretta by his torn-suited side and desperately repeated the question.

Well, Val, seems we're up against an army, and not a particularly small one either. Not to mention that it mainly consists of armored tanks and what appears to be a small nuclear weapons device. Appears that they've stormed the castle after all. Those damn Flemish gangsters. Karma is clearly out to get us, and, I must say, I really do not appreciate this role-swapping business. The usual flippant reply that he would have whipped out choked in his throat and he stared hopelessly back at her.

With a breath bursting from deep inside him, from the place he thought he never would touch, Skulduggery crushed Valkyrie to his chest, freeing his hand to push his hand deep into her hair and cradle her head against his shoulder. Valkyrie knew; her own arms wrapped around his back and clenched him closer. Outnumbered. Impossible odds, and not the ones they faced daily. Suicide.

"One of us can get out of this," he murmured into the side of her neck, but as she knew him, he knew her, and the arms around him tightened convulsively, cutting off his words before he could finish.

"Damn you, Pleasant, you know better than that."

He closed his eyes and breathed. Time, measured in heartbeats, was slipping away too fast. So much to say, so little time, so few words.

"You-you were the best partner I could ever have —" he choked out into the thick softness of her hair, but a sudden sob was rising in his throat and strangling the words with it.

"Don't you dare cry, Pleasant," she rebuked, pulling back to look at him, words impossibly soft. "Until the end, remember?" She smiled her best crooked smile, leaned in, hair framing both of their faces.


End file.
